Fabric of Reality
by Burningbridges
Summary: You’re all familiar with the ‘person gets stuck in a game’ plot… But what if it happened to Chris and the other characters of RE? Join us as they adventure into Conker’s Bad Fur Day.
1. Wake Up and Smell the Mushrooms

Eh, I'm not much for writing crossovers and that type of thing but I've been kind of bored lately with writing shorts, and I wanted to do something interesting during my short breaks from my longer stories. I recently rediscovered my love of Conker's Bad Fur Day when I finally got my N64 emulator to work properly on my computer, and this idea came to me. Odd combo, but it's not the weirdest of the ones I've seen done.

With this one, I'll try to explain stuff as I go along, so even if you've never played it, you'll still have a pretty good idea of what's up.

Please bear with me through the introduction… I'm not going to go into heavy detail in that, 'cause I suck at intros. So it's going to be quick.

All in all, I think this could be quite fun. I'm not totally certain yet if I'll use elements from Conker: Live and Reloaded, but I just might. I should really consider investing in an Xbox… Or spend more time at my cousin's place and use his.

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Fabric of Reality

By Burning Bridges

Chapter One: Wake Up and Smell the Mushrooms

_Ding-dong. Ding-dong, ding-dong. Dingdingdingdingding!_

"Hold on a minute!" Chris shouted at the doorbell, wiping his brow with the back of his arm, one hand holding a knife and the other holding a carrot.

It was Thanksgiving, that funny holiday that us Americans celebrate to remember when some people with religious preservation in mind came to the continent and had some shaky dealings with the Natives, eventually getting along (for a little while).

Like any holiday, it's stressful, and Chris was only just beginning to realize that now, since he was stuck preparing dinner this year and for a big group of people… half of the people they knew, at least.

Claire, whose idea it was to have a party in the first place, was supposed to be answering the door, but she wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Claire?" Chris called, "Are you going to get the door?"

No response came, except for the impatient dinging of the doorbell again. He sighed to himself, set down the knife and went to the door. He opened it, coming face to face with their first guest of the day, Steve.

"Hi, Chris," the redhead said happily, and then giving him a funny look asked, "Why do you have a carrot in your hand?"

Chris looked down, and indeed, he still had the carrot in hand. "Uh… I was peeling it when you rang. Claire, Steve is here!"

There was a crash somewhere towards the back of the house, and she poked her head around the corner, covered in dust.

"What was that?" Chris asked, and his sister laughed awkwardly.

"I fell out of the attic."

The two guys exchanged looks and then Steve stepped inside, holding up a plastic bag. "I brought my Xbox."

"Really? That's funny… I just found our old Nintendo 64 in a box up there," she replied, indicating the direction of the attic. "You know what that means?"

"Conker's Bad Fur Day?" Steve asked.

She nodded, and they went off into the living room together, while Chris just shook his head and went back to the kitchen. He had a very vague memory of ever owning an N64… and even then, he didn't remember anything about it. Or Conker's Bad Fur Day, for that matter.

The day progressed rather slowly from that point; Chris doing all the cooking himself, Claire and Steve talking about nothing other than some bizarre plan to hook up the Xbox and N64 and run them simultaneously (not that that would accomplish anything), the rest of their guests showing up with the hopes of getting drunk, and eventually, Chris falling asleep on the couch right after they had eaten.

After a very long nap, Chris stretched and yawned, his sleep having been interrupted by a gravelly voice running off a string of profanity, and Claire informing Steve that there was no way he could win now. They had been playing around with that old Nintendo 64 that had been in the attic since dinner.

"What time is it?" Chris mumbled, opening his eyes just in time to see a weasel in a red-striped shirt whack another weasel in a yellow-striped shirt over the head with a baseball bat and start chasing a bag of money that was hopping.

"Almost Midnight," Steve answered, and Chris groaned.

"Is anyone still here?"

"Everyone is still here," Claire said, pausing the game. "They all kind of over did it with the eggnog and whatnot."

Chris looked around groggily. Their guests were scattered around, sleeping in various spots; at the table, on the floor… under the table.

It was very odd what can happen when you invite a lot of people over and let them drink. Anyway, Chris didn't have the vigor to wake them up and form more comfortable sleeping arrangements.

"I'm going to bed," he said, getting up uneasily and starting towards his room, almost tripping over Jill, who was sleeping in the middle of the hall, in the process.

"Good night," his sister and Steve called after him in unison.

"Yeah. Good night."

A little while later…

There was a cawing sound nearby, which startled Chris out of sleep; the sound triggering memories of virus-infected crows. He sat up abruptly, and looked around, expecting to see his room. But that's not what he laid eyes upon.

"Where am I?"

He was in a grassy spot on a riverbank, shadowed by a moss-draped precipice. To his left was a small vegetable patch where a badly made scarecrow appeared to be neglected, while to the right, a river flowed, gathering around a small island in the middle of the water that overlooked three rocky protuberances. And dead ahead, only a few feet away, was something red and furry, lying perfectly still.

Chris drew a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He had been in very strange and disturbing situations not unlike this before, but not quite as troubling in this manner. He didn't have the slightest idea where he was or even what the thing nearby was. Slowly, he got to his feet and inched towards the red fluff ball, thinking that maybe it was a dead fox or something. When he got within a foot, though, he froze in his tracks, a feeling of having walked into the Night Gallery washing over him.

The creature before him was on his back with his eyes tightly shut, while a white-tipped tail twitched slightly. He had on a sky blue hoodie, with blue and yellow sneakers… and appeared to be a squirrel.

Chris stared at the anomaly for a while in complete silence, before he slowly sat back down on the ground in a combination of uncertainty and alarm. He had seen a lot of unbelievable things, but nothing compared to this. He was attempting to gather what was still remaining of his composure, when suddenly the red squirrel sat up and forcefully cleared his throat like he was going to choke on something.

"Oh no…" he muttered to himself, "It's going to be one of those days."

Chris just stared, way too disturbed to move.

The red squirrel got to his feet, his back to Chris, rocking back and forth tipsily, while his tongue hung out of his mouth. He went to take a couple of steps forward, lost his balance and spun around clumsily, catching a glimpse of his company. "Who are you?" he asked in a fatigued voice, looking Chris over with his badly bloodshot eyes. When the man didn't answer, the squirrel waved his hand back and forth in front of his face. "Hello? Is anybody home?"

"I have to be dreaming… This is some kind of bad dream…"

The squirrel shook his head. "No… I'm pretty sure this is reality."

The scarecrow in the nearby vegetable patch suddenly made a snorting sound, and Chris jumped to his feet and started to inch away by instinct, only to fall into the river. He splashed around for a moment while the inebriated squirrel just watched, until he finally got a hold of the earth and pulled himself back onto land. A look of distress came over him as he shook off.

"I'm not dreaming, am I?"

"Maybe he can help," the squirrel replied, pointing to the scarecrow before heading towards the patch. Chris followed apprehensively, not sure at this point if he was sane or not. When they came within a foot of the scarecrow, it suddenly stirred, flailing around and looking back and forth with a startled "Wha's that, wha's that? Uh, who are you?"

The scarecrow wasn't exactly your typical, everyday version. It had an oddly shaped head, with no definite eyes, just black hollows that were utterly disturbing, but perceptibly arcane. The material it was made from was badly sewn together with large, inconsistent stitches that ran along the sides of its head and over the mouth, just loose enough for the creature to talk. The bag that formed its head stopped at the neck, creating a collar covering the top of its red shirt. Below the shirt, was the worn 'CORN'.

"Hello, can you help me… us? I need to get home and go to bed, 'cause I don't feel very well at all," the squirrel said in a slightly slurred voice.

The somewhat disoriented scarecrow thought briefly. "Er… Home? No! No…"

"So you can't help me at all?" he glanced at Chris, who remained silent.

"Eh actually, yes I can. Maybe…"

"Okay. What's your name?"

"Birdy." The scarecrow flapped his hands like wings.

"Beardy? But you haven't got a beard."

"No, Birdy, I scare birdies!" he answered, still flapping.

"Okay, Birdy. So how can you help?"

"Right. Step over here." Birdy spun around and pointed to what looked like an octagonal wood platform marked with a 'B'. Neither of them had a clue what it was, but they went around and stood on it anyway.

"Now, you see those buttons… Actually, you'll find that, eh, they're called context sensitive. And eh, well, actually they, eh… Press B," Birdy explained, scratching his head. While his small, red companion seemed to know what the scarecrow was talking about, Chris was totally clueless.

"Press B," the squirrel repeated.

"Oh yeh, the light comes on, and it makes this noise, ting! Ting noise…"

A light bulb appeared over the B pad they were on, making a high-pitched chime sound.

"There you go, ting. That's it."

"That's it?"

"Yeh."

"Okay, I'll press B."

Chris watched him closely, trying to understand what they meant by 'press B', but the squirrel just stood there, until the light bulb disappeared and he suddenly pulled out a bottle of beer. Birdy took it and dumped the whole thing in his mouth with nothing more than an 'I don't mind if I do'.

"So, what does that mean?"

"It means context sensitive… It's sensitive to context! Try it over there." He pointed to another B pad on the other side of the fence, only a yard or two from where they had woken up, as the gate swung open.

"Okay," the squirrel said wearily.

"Or you could try it again," Birdy suggested leaning heavily against a signpost reading "Feck off crows", and he did, this time pulling out a tank of helium which the scarecrow inhaled without any hesitation.

"Really nice helium," he commented. The light bulb popped up yet again, and produced another bottle of beer.

"Ah, don't mind if I do! Thank you very much." Birdy chugged it. "I am going to bed now. Night-night."

Man and squirrel exchanged odd looks, before heading to the other B pad when Birdy immediately began to snore again. At the other octagon marked with a B, Chris' intoxicated acquaintance pulled out a glass of water and some alka-seltzer, drinking the fizzing concoction and suddenly perking up. He tossed the glass, and scratched his left ear.

"Wow, just what I needed. In fact, it would seem to me that these give me just what I need, at that moment in time. Oh, I see what he means, context sensitive. Clever!"

"What now?" Chris asked, getting up the nerve to speak for the first time in a while, as the initial shock was starting to wear off.

"Right! I feel loads better. Let's get out of here."

"I never caught your name," Chris said, striking up a conversation as they began to walk, "I'm Chris Redfield."

"Conker," the squirrel replied, and it suddenly hit Chris where he was.

"I'm in that game??" he thought to himself, looking around. "How the hell did that happen?"

His thoughts were interrupted when Conker stopped at the edge of the river, looking out over the water to where the small piece of land separated the flow into two.

"Guess that's the only way to go."

"I'm about twice your height, so I could give you a ride across," Chris suggested, but Conker seemed hesitant. "It would save time."

"Eh, if it saves time," he agreed.

Once Chris had piggybacked him across the water, Conker stopped to examine a log jutting out of the cliff wall closest to the left of the island, just above where the river ran over, forming a huge waterfall. He jumped towards it, spinning his tail in a fashion reminiscent of a helicopter propeller and sailed right across the gap, landing safely on the end of the log.

"Think you can make it?" he called back, and Chris looked back and forth from log to land, calculating the distance.

"Yeah. No problem." He ran to the edge, and jumped. And landed flat on his face.

The log was up against a rocky ledge that led to a door with a bridge consisting of nothing more than wood planks and two lengths of rope. Past the (locked) door, was yet another ledge with a rope bridge that took them to another log. And beyond that log, was a stone bridge. Climbing up onto the stone bridge, they found a big lever at their end, and at the other, a big red-eyed gargoyle whose bulk blocked the exit.

"Ah, who's this guy?" Conker muttered and the gargoyle crossed its arms.

"If you think you're coming this way… you can think again."

"You're a real charmer. I just want to get past, please."

"No. I don't think so. I've only just got comfy. Have you ever sat on a piece of gothic architecture for two hundred years? Gets right up your arse, you know. Thought it was about time to move onto a bridge, say, and I'm not moving now," he warned, crossing his arms again.

"Isn't it a little bit early in the day to start talking about 'gothic architecture'?" Conker mocked, and it took on a sarcastically polite tone.

"Well, if you care to come a bit closer, we can discuss things of another nature."

"Okay," Chris said, walking right up to the stone monster. "What happens now?"

The gargoyle knocked him clear off the bridge, sending him flying through the air, and landing in the rocky pool about four stories below.

"Ouch…"

While Conker waited for him to find the way back up, he decided to see what the lever at the end of the bridge would do. When he pulled it down, the locked door two ledges back swung open, and he went to meet Chris there.

Bruised and battered Chris finally joined him, dragging his feet as he slouched forward.

"Lets see what's in here."

They went in together, and upon entering, the doors closed tight behind them. The room was basically a cave with the ceiling being held up by hourglass-shaped stone pillars, and hopping around was a key Conker's size… with eyes.

"Leon! I mean, Chris!" it said in a whiny voice, and they were both taken aback.

"You know a key?" Conker asked, and it hopped up to them, bouncing up and down spiritedly.

"Thank god someone else is here, too! I didn't know what was going to happen to me and now - "

Chris thought back to everyone he knew… and there was only one person who sounded as annoying as that key. "Wait… Ashley? Is that you?" he questioned.

"Yes!" the key said, still gleeful to have been found, "I woke up this morning and I was a giant key!"

"I woke up this morning and I was stuck here," Chris replied.

"I woke up this morning and I had a hangover," Conker added.

"Okay, so I'm not here alone. But why did your preppy self get turned into a key?"

"I don't know, but… hey! I'm not preppy!" Ashley replied, and when he ignored her she started running around screaming that she wasn't a prep.

"We've got to get out of here," he said to Conker, and Conker agreed.

"Yeah, but how? Wait, I've got it!"

The red squirrel ran up to Ashley, who was still spazzing out, and whacked her in the face with an oversized frying pan he had in his pocket, knocking her on her ass. With that, he picked her up and carried her over to the door, where he shoved her into the enormous keyhole, unlocked it and let her go.

"Eww!" she shouted hopping around in a small circle like mad, "That was a violation of my personal space!"

The two guys paid her no mind, and began to head back across the ledges toward the stone bridge, stopping only when she came after them shrieking 'wait for me!' until Chris went back and carried her from ledge to ledge.

On the stone bridge, they walked up to the gargoyle and Conker fearlessly smacked him with the frying pan.

"Ha! A frying pan," the monster laughed, standing up. "You stupid little…" Conker waved goodbye as it lost its balance and fell off the bridge screaming all the way down until it landed head first in the pool, shaking the whole chasm and knocking loose a boulder in front of the exit, blocking it.

"Wait here. I have an idea," Conker said to Chris and Ashley, as he climbed up the boulder, and jumped onto a platform attached to the wall of rock on the right of the bridge. Just as he suspected, there was an octagon with a B. After the ting, he pulled out the perfect thing to fix the boulder problem.

"Plunger, with dynamite. I think I know what's going to happen now." He detonated the dynamite, sending large rock fragments everywhere, and causing Ashley to wig out.

"Watch what you're doing!" she screamed.

"Whoa, yep, fantastic! Let's go and get some shuteye. Finally!" he said to himself cheerfully, jumping back down onto the bridge and gesturing for them to follow.

Meanwhile, in the nearby castle…

Professor Von Kripelspac, the weasel scientist, was prepping himself to meet with the Panther King about a problem that had come up during the night. He wasn't looking forward to it, but then again, he never did.

If given the choice, he wouldn't have been making his way to the throne room, but he didn't have a choice and that was what bugged him the most. He had been someone once – more specifically, a leader with interesting fashion sense and legs – but now he was just a pawn; a lonely, legless pawn confined to technology's answer to the conventional wheelchair. He didn't have much of a say in his own life, but that would change soon. He would see to it.

When the doors opened, Von Kripelspac found the king as he usually did, perched grumpily in his throne with a lackey on either side. Everything was as it usually was; a disturbing lack of decoration, a short-fused king constantly drinking milk, and a poor excuse for a functioning table at his side. Everything was routine, except for what was about to happen next.

"Aah, Professor. Welcome," the Panther King murmured, trilling in between words.

The Professor just gave him a reverent nod.

"I have a job for you, as you can see… The table." He motioned to the table on his right, which for whatever reason had been missing the front left leg for quite some time.

"Ze table, ah yes. So you have spilt ze milk again? That's not gūt, not gūt. Let me have a look at it for you." He came a bit closer in his hovering chair, and looked over the three-legged table carefully. "Yes, I think I see the problem! I vill see vat I can do. You must give me a moment, though. I vill come back later."

"Don't be too long," the Panther King cautioned.

"Aha, I vill be as quick as I can, Sire."

"Cos you know what happened last time."

He laughed nervously. "Only too well, only too well. I vill go now."

"I don't want to get the duct tape out again."

"Yes, I mean no! I don't vant you to get the duct tape out again!" Although Von Kripelspac was trying to be on the good-humored side, his voice was quickly taking on a panicky tenor. "Goodbye, goodbye."

But before he could leave, there was a sudden flutter of movement from behind, and an unfamiliar voice calmly commanded, "Everyone stay exactly where you are."

Two men, one in all black with sunglasses on and another in a white lab coat, stepped out from behind the curtains on either side of the window in a fashion reminiscent of Hamlet (except no one got stabbed).

"Who are you?" the Panther King growled, and the man in black just smirked slightly.

"I'm here to take your place as king," he answered casually.

"Absurd!"

"Not at all. You see, I woke up here this morning, and I intend to use it to my advantage."

The King's two lackeys snorted, apparently amused by the thought of anyone thinking it would be so easy to overthrow the Panther King.

"Now, if you'll excuse yourself from _my_ court…" he said, and his companion pulled out a slice of pizza and chucked it at the King, for it to land right on his head. Before he could even react, two gigantic white tendrils with intermittent red polka dots threw the doors open and went straight for the pizzafied panther, wrapping around him completely and dragging him out, the doors closing behind them.

"See?" the man in black said to his cohort, "I told you that mushroom would take to the virus well. And it likes pizza, too, just like those shroom-eating plumbers in that game."

"Right, right. Are you certain it won't eat him?"

"I locked the door to the room it's in. He should be fine."

The Professor and the lackeys just stared at them, at a total loss for words. The guy in black sat down in the huge thrown, the other standing at his side.

"You two," he said to the lackeys, "Go find a place to keep the panther where he won't cause problems."

Without a word, they were off, not keen on testing this new guys patience.

"Now, now. Professor, I've heard quite a bit about you in the short time I've been here, and I think you could be of great use to me."

The Professor didn't know exactly how to react to that. "Err… Vat did you have in mind?" he asked, slowly approaching the guy.

"I have this problem. You see, there are a few people that I've been trying to get rid of for a long time. And from what I gather, they are here too. That's where you could potentially do me an immense service. First off, there are two that I need to find, because I think they're responsible for us ending up here."

He nodded. That sounded simple enough. The New King handed him a photo of a ponytailed woman and a young man with bright red hair.

"And once they're found, I have something for you to work on that will be greatly worth your while… Turning the previous king into a biological weapon. My royal advisor, William, will assist you." He indicated his companion, who just observed Von Kripelspac somberly.

The thought of turning the Panther King into a biological weapon pleased the Professor greatly. After all of the time he had spent in assistance to that dictator, he could finally get back at him for it. Revenge is indeed sweet.

"My pleasure, Sire," he replied to the New King, rubbing his paws together in anticipation. "I vill do my best to solve ze dilemma. But first, may I ask your name?"

"Wesker. King Wesker."

"All hail King Vesker," Von Kripelspac said amiably, giving a bow of respect before he retreated back to the haven of his workplace.

Once there, he began to contemplate how to approach the tribulations set before him by the new king… as well as his lingering abhorrence of the previous one.

"Duct tape…" he muttered, "I'll give him a duct tape, fucking arsehole. I'll come down here, I'll show him where the duct tape is, I'll show him where to stuff it! All I ever did vas try and sort his stupid fucking problems out! I hate that fucker! Anyway, vat ver ve? Ze finding of ze two people, and ze weapon. Vat shall ve do vit zis? Clean slate, ja, clean slate." He turned to a square of chocolate that was floating unsteadily. "Anti-gravity chocolate… Is kinda vurking. Ah, zat vill do. Out ze fucking vindow vit zat!"

And without a second's hesitation, he knocked possibly the most harmless of his experiments right out the window. But reflecting on that, he began to ask himself… Where was the fun in something harmless?

Back where we left off…

Conker, Chris and Ashley walked into one of the sunniest places they could have ever imagined, surrounded by the greens of summer and mysterious pieces of floating chocolate. With a quick look around, Chris knew exactly what to say.

"Ashley, Conker… I don't think we're in that place we were just in, anymore."

**Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who**

**Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through,**

**Not one returns to tell us of the Road**

**Which to discover we must travel too.**

**The Rubaiyat**

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I know I didn't say exactly who was at the dinner party, but that's because I'm not fully certain who I'm putting in this yet, and who I'm not, although I am aiming for most of the RE characters. It mainly depends on who would fit where.

And I know I didn't do much in the way of describing anyone in the scene with the Panther King, but I will get to that. Since this is written third person omniscient, some things I won't describe until I change points of view, mostly because someone sitting there describing themselves in detail in their mind seems a little weird.

Yes, bad spin-off of that famous Wizard of Oz quote at the end – I just couldn't resist. I'm not sure how funny this chapter really is, but either way, the next one will be much more humorous. And I might fool around with the plot a little more. As well as dialogue, because that's always bound to change with the plot… and the fact that I'm not very creative with what profanity to sub in for bleeps – some of them I can figure out, others not. I'm more of a word jumble person.

Well, if you're reading this, leave me a review and let me know what you thought! Every review helps the thought process!


	2. Pesticides

_Okay, second chapter. Bad title, I know, but this part's mostly full of bugs and whatnot, so it made sense to me. Sooner or later, there will be a chapter where the title is so completely retarded that someone will explode, I'm sure. But until then, everyone's safe. I haven't written anything too stupid in this yet… except for when I typed 'comapinions' instead of 'companions'…_

_Either way, enjoy!_

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Chapter Two: Pesticides

The trio looked around in awe at the beautiful countryside that sprawled before them, "beautiful" give or take the mountain-sized pile of something that didn't exactly look like mud in the distance. A virtual rainbow of butterflies fluttered around them, their colors shimmering in the bright sunlight and illuminating the distant monochromes of the horizon.

The valley below consisted of several structures almost interconnected. Right in the middle, on a colossal tree stump surrounded by a small river, stood a graceful windmill, its blades ever-turning, watching over all that lie in its sight.

To their far left, they could see what looked like part of a dismal fortress, guarded by a row of barbed wire and two turrets, but they didn't know what lie beyond. Just past that, rolling hills where a farmer's fields could be distinguished touched the pure blue sky, the clouds literally drifting across them.

In the middle of the fields, a huge beehive rose up, its wax catching the sunlight and casting a golden aura over everything around it. The very front entrance of the hive was carved into the side of a knoll right across from them, and they could see, in detail, the exquisitely intricate design, slightly overshadowed by the eternal and untouched darkness within the confines of the three hexagonal doorways.

In the expanse beyond that, stood a lonely tower, almost disguised in the clutch of untamed ivy that brought the eye to rest upon high volcanoes spewing dark clouds far away. Below the rise of volcanoes, stood the mountain that still didn't appear to be made of mud, that persistently flowed like a river towards a point below, hidden by a stump-covered mound.

And to their far right, consuming a great deal of the skyline, ascended an immense castle that seemed perpetually shrouded in darkness, perched in its place as if hung from stars. Seven towers germinated from the main edifice, twisting at odd angles as if they were the limbs of a tree searching for the sunlight. The entrance of the castle was ornamented in the most peculiar way; holding the crosshatch gate in its mouth, was what appeared to be a carving of a cat-like beast, its visage drawn back in a roar, narrowed eyes gazing condemningly across the kingdom.

The three traveled down the winding path to the valley floor, where they stopped at a signpost around which more butterflies rested in the lush grass that it was set in. Two signs jutted out of it, one on either side. The one pointing to the left, where the fortress and the hive lie, read in crude carving 'NASTY', while the opposite one, pointing towards the stump-laden mound and the castle, read 'NICE'.

"Um… Did we just end up on Sesame Street or something?" Chris asked, wondering exactly who had originally settled in this area, and whether or not they were doing drugs at the time.

"Which way should we go?" Conker asked, looking back and forth from one side of the valley to the other.

"I put my vote on 'NICE'," replied Chris, and Ashley nodded furiously in agreement, as only a key could.

"All right, 'NICE' it is."

They started towards a small stone bridge that crossed the river, when a bumblebee the size of a Scottish terrier, wearing a crown, flew up to them crying her eyes out. Ashley shrieked and ducked behind Conker, who just rolled his eyes, while Chris stared in dismay at the creature.

"Oh, those nasty, nasty wasps," she sobbed with a British accent, "Whatever shall we do? My beautiful hive has gone, and I'll never see it again now."

"What do you want us to do about it?" Conker asked. He didn't really care one way or the other, but it didn't seem he had much of a choice.

"Please get it back for us, or I don't know what we're going to do." She started sobbing harder, and Conker was getting annoyed.

"Okay, okay, calm down. We'll go and get it for you. Now where is it?"

"Just follow the signs." With that, she resumed her crying and flying around in circles over a wooden platform where a circle of honey still remained.

"Okay," Conker said very seriously, "How are we going to do this?"

"I refuse to go up there!" Ashley said, and her two travel companions exchanged looks.

"Aha!" they said in unison, and Ashley immediately started to feel threatened.

"W-what are you 'aha'-ing about? It doesn't involve me, does it? It better not, because I'll tell my father!"

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Chris asked Conker.

"How should I know? I can't read minds."

"That's it, I'm gone!" Ashley started to hop away, but before she could get far, Chris grabbed her.

"Relax, nothing bad will happen. I hope. Anyway, I was thinking that she could distract them, while you bring the hive back down."

"And what are you going to do?" Conker asked, crossing his arms.

"Oh yeah… I'll go with Ashley, make she survives."

Ashley gave him a dirty look.

"So, we're all set, now?"

"Yup. All for one and one for all!" Chris declared, receiving funny looks. "What?"

The followed the path along the left side of the valley, and up a slight incline that led right to the front of the giant hive. Right in the middle of the ground was a small hive, about Conker's size, that bounced up and down slightly on its own.

Hesitating for a second, Ashley stepped up to the main entrance of the hive, and shouted nervously, "Hello, is anyone home?"

Without any warning, she was nearly bowled over by three wasps twice the size of the queen bee, whom didn't seem pleased with being disturbed.

"What do you want?" asked the one that seemed to be the head honcho, who was smoking a cigar.

"Uh… some flour?"

"We don't have flour."

"A cup of sugar?"

"Look, Key. We don't have no flour or sugar, so I suggest you hightail it outta here."

Conker had already grabbed the hive while they weren't paying attention, and had started down the path again, when one of them noticed what he was doing.

"Hey, some wise guys trying to steal our nice new hive!" the cigar-smoking wasp said.

"Come on, boss! Let's go get him!" another with a nasally voice exclaimed.

"Yeah, let's get him!" the third agreed.

"Run for it!" Chris shouted, and Conker didn't waste any time before bolting down the path, being followed by the three disgruntled wasps, while Ashley just screamed bloody murder for no apparent reason.

"Why are you screaming? You're not even the one being chased," Chris said, getting a bit tired of the strain on his eardrums.

"I know. I just wanted to create a dramatic effect," the ditzy key replied.

They ran down the hill after Conker and the wasps, only stopping when the squirrel chucked the hive through the air, watching in relief when it landed safely in its original spot on the square platform. A little turret gun popped up from the top of the hive, and the Queen Bee got in, setting her sights on the wasps who stopped in their tracks.

"Eat lead, mother buzzer!" Conker sneered, and she opened fire on the wasps, shooting them all to pieces.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Squirrel and friends," the Queen said, coming out again. "None of this would have happened if it weren't for that no-good husband of mine. He's gone off with another woman."

"Oh really? That doesn't surprise me," Conker mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Anyway, as a reward for your good service to the bee community, I present you with this."

A pair of eyes suddenly peered around the hive, and a wad of cash secured by a red rubber band bounced up to them.

"Somebody call for me? Who wants some of the dough?"

Conker turned to his two companions. "Would it be alright with you if I, uh…"

"You can keep the money – we won't be needing it," Chris assured, and Conker seemed positively thrilled.

"Yeah, cash prizes!" he said to himself with a wide grin, as the Queen Bee and the other members of her hive, bees the size of rats, circled around happily, buzzing a song.

"Where should we go now?" Ashley asked, being eager to get away from the bee-infested parts of the valley.

"There could be something in the windmill of interest," Conker suggested.

"Worth a look," Chris agreed, and they set off towards the windmill, crossing the small stone bridge over the river and starting up the winding course leading to the top of the giant stump. They hadn't gotten a yard when an earthworm as big as an anaconda popped up out of the ground, growling and sniffing around. It had two rows of razor sharp teeth, and judging from the way it kept hissing at them, it wasn't afraid to use them.

"Now would be a good time to… RUN!" Conker said, make a dash for the top of the stump, Chris and Ashley right behind him.

Every four feet or so, another fanged earthworm would come up, trying to catch a potential meal as it ran past, although unsuccessful. When they finally reached the top, they found a barrel with eyes sitting there, just staring at them. Conker went to talk to it, while his human companions, trying to catch their breath, took a moment to rest.

"Who are those guys?" he said agreeably, indicating the worms. "Oh hello! Umm… What do you do then?"

"Mmm.… It'll cost ya," the barrel replied in a husky voice just above a whisper.

"Oh, how much?" he moaned.

"A lot! Come back when you got more money. Go on, on your bike."

"Very helpful," Chris said loudly enough for the barrel to hear him, as he got to his feet and looked out over the horizon.

From this height, he could see far past the borders of the valley, to places he hadn't realized were there from the lower altitude of the hill where they had started. Straight ahead, over the pinnacle of the unwelcoming fortress, he could see an island, where stood a huge citadel virtually isolated from the surrounding landmasses. It was surrounded by four tall battlements, fully armed, that scanned the skies for anything unusual. He couldn't help but wonder what was in such an ominous place.

Off far afield from the hill where they'd started, was another giant tree stump, this one at least four times the size of the windmill's, characterized by small window-shaped openings and moss covered projections that appeared to have once been branches. Behind it, more hills cultivated for farming rose up, eventually disappearing behind mountains that rose sharply towards a clouded sky like dark icicles. Below them, a forest of scraggly black, leafless trees whose branches tangled together in a manner similar to a patch of bramble bushes stretched across the terrain, leading to a plateau-like prominence, atop which sat a house, its features indistinct from that distance. He stared in wonder at the incredible landscape, until…

"Chris. Chris!"

"Huh, what?" Chris said, coming to his senses.

"I said," Conker grumbled, "We're going to head towards that flowing pile of stuff over there. It seems to be the only way to get out of here right now."

"Oh, right. I guess I got caught up in checking out the view. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Chris, you're boring me to death," Conker joked, "C'mon. Let's scurry!"

At the bottom of the hill, safely away from the killer worms, they started towards the stump-covered mound that led to the semi-fluid peak. At the base of the windmill's stump, though, they found a B pad. Getting near it, black and red beetle-like bugs that were as big as shetland ponies perched on the stumps covering the incline to their right started to talk to each other, noticing their company.

"Alright, who's dis?" one asked in a Liverpudlian accent.

"It's like one of them squirrels, a key and something else," replied another.

"I reckon we should go down there and kick the shit out of them," suggested the first.

"Ah, wait till he comes up here, alright?"

"Okay den, yeh."

"Did they realize how loud they were talking?" Chris asked no one in particular.

Upon stepping over to the B pad, Birdy the scarecrow came out of nowhere, causing Ashley to shriek and dive behind them. "What is that _thing_??"

"Hello, it's me again… Mr. Scarecrow Birdy." He flapped his hands. "Right, what seems to be the problem? Oh yes, you need manual! Otherwise no… doesn't work. It'll cost you."

"How much?" Conker asked.

"Got any mepsipax?"

"What?"

"Doesn't matter. Actually eh, I think, well em ten dollars. Long time… you love manual long time."

"I'm sure," Chris muttered under his breath.

"Here ya go," Conker said, handing the creepy scarecrow a wad of cash.

"Here you go. Manual. Just press B."

Birdy started to hop away on his post, passing enough gas to power the sun. The money was on the verge of being sick.

"Get me out of here! Hey you, come here, come on, I wanna go back in there!" it shouted jumping out of Birdy's pocket and hopping back to Conker. "Hurry up!"

"Okay, suits me," Conker said happily. "Yeah, cash!"

"So, what does it do?" Ashley asked, and Conker opened the manual.

"Aah, seems to be an instruction book. Oh, I see… it's for the more complex stuff. 'The Catapult'," he read aloud, "Aim and fire. Seems simple enough."

With that, he put the manual in his pocket and pulled out a slingshot, aiming it up the hill at the four red and black bugs resting on the stumps. Each time he sent an acorn flying at one of them, they would start to come down the hill and he'd hit them with another one, knocking them to pieces. When he had gotten rid of all four, a door opened in the shell of what was left of a tree at the top of the slope, and they started towards it, wondering what was up there.

A couple yards to the left of the tree, there was an entrance into the area where the flowing mountain of something was, and they stopped, observing both and considering their options.

"Mmm, let's see. That way or that way?" he pointed from the left entry to the right. Mmm, that way smells a bit pooey." He pointed to the left one. "Let me see. Shall we?"

He nodded towards the tree, and his two companions nodded in agreement. Without further discussion, they headed into the darkness of the tree passage.

Meanwhile, in the castle…

The Professor was in his workplace, taking into consideration exactly how he would go about finding the two people that Wesker wanted to locate, although he wasn't without ideas. He had spotted a human, as they were called in his books, traveling with a red squirrel and a key earlier, and made note of it, remembering that his New King was looking for other people as well. Perhaps that one was one of them.

He had never seen a human himself, other than in pictures, and the fact that there were suddenly a group of them here was a little odd. Humans didn't live anywhere near this land, so where had they come from, and practically over night?

"So vat is ze key element in zis experimentation?" he asked himself aloud, getting back to his work before he got too deep in thought. "Ve have two people to trace. There is one wandering vit a squirrel… Ah, I see problem. Oh and there seems to be, ah. Hmm, seems to be a… hmm."

He studied the blueprints he drew up detailing the situation closely. "I must do some experiments, I think. Ja, ja, and ve vill sort zis out. And when my Tediz are ready, then, my former Lord, ve vill see who uses the duct tape!"

He laughed to himself, contemplating when things would eventually be the way they once were.

Back where we left off…

The trio stepped out of the darkness and into the sunlight, finding themselves in a very odd place. A pool of green water gathered in a wide trench before them, shallow at their end, but getting much deeper farther down. On the other side of the water was some kind of barn, the first floor being made primarily of stone, while the second floor was wood with ladders leading up to several platforms high in the air next to a large timber water tank.

They crossed the water, and looked to the left, seeing two large animate metal boxes jumping up and down along a path that led around back of the building. Chris couldn't make out what was to the right, so he took the initiative to go up the stairs and take a look, Conker and Ashley following behind him. On a mound that appeared to mainly consist of dirt and crap, was a mouse bigger than Conker that scampered around, occasionally going up to two metal boxes that were stacked, the large one on top of the smaller one, burping right in the bottom one's face to its disgust.

Conker went to ask them for directions and when he got closer, the bottom box suddenly spoke in a gruff voice reminiscent of a gospel preacher. "I say, I say, little fella," he addressed the squirrel, "You three better get this fat-ass bitch off a my back pronto."

"Gee, so many people around here want us to solve their problems," he protested. "What are you going to do for us then?"

"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do, I say, I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. You get rid of that freakin' mouse critter and maybe I'll help you out. Just maybe. Oh, just one more thing, I say, just one more thing. You might run into my friend Burt. Just mention my name, Jack, and everything will be just dandy."

"Okay… Anyone have ideas?" Conker asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"We could always lock him up somewhere," Ashley offered, and the red squirrel crossed his arms.

"And where would we put him? Did you think of that, Goldie Locks?"

"You wanted ideas, and that's all I could think of," she said indignantly.

"Well, try using your brain more often."

"Shut up, drunk!"

"Oh wow, I'm so offended!"

"Okay, okay," Chris said, stepping in between them so a fight wouldn't break out, "Let's just try to get along, alright?"

Before he could say anymore, the mouse hopped over to them, belching and farting a huge green cloud that enveloped them. Instantly, Conker and Chris got nauseous and started puking everywhere. Ashley on the other hand just screamed bloody murder and bounced away, being incapable of vomiting in the form of a key. They puked and puked… and puked some more… puking on the ground and each other… Finally, they stopped puking.

"I say…" panted Conker, trying to catch his breath. "… That we go look around on the right side."

"I couldn't agree more," wheezed Chris.

They quickly jogged away from the abysmal spot where the mouse was, finding Ashley waiting for them by the front of the barn. "What do we do about the jumping boxes?"

"Run under them," Conker said matter-of-factly, exchanging dirty looks with the president's daughter, now key. Chris could fathom already that their social contact was only going to go downhill from here.

"Are you insane? We'll get crushed!" she shouted, inciting another argument within minutes of the first one's end. "I could care less if you want to die, I just want to survive this!"

"Shallow, aren't we?" he teased, and Ashley looked as though she was going to explode.

"I am not shallow!" she screeched so loud that her voice echoed slightly, as well as silenced everything and everyone in the vicinity. "Why is it that people always make fun of me?! I'm not shallow, I'm not preppy and I'm not a slut!"

"You, a slut? I'd like to see that," he laughed, and Ashley, having no arms or hands to punch the annoying squirrel with, took off after him, directly up the path that the metal boxes were jumping along, running under and around the moving deathtraps without any regard for their own safety. And somehow, they made it to the top safely.

Chris, on the other hand, had a harder time, since he had to wait while the boxes paused and then run under as they jumped.

After what felt like six hours, he finally stopped to rest, staring begrudgingly at his two companions who now seemed fine again. "Sometimes I really hate working with teams…"

Neither of them paid attention, being more interested in what lay before them. The rock wall that separated them from the valley had suddenly curved further in, forming an arc enclosed by a small fence, where wedges of cheese with eyes hopped around casually. They were only two ways in; a challenging climb up and over some blocky stair-like projections left in the rock wall (possibly after some mining had occurred) OR through the gate past another metal box, only half the size of the jumping ones, that sat there gazing spitefully off into space. Seeing as Chris had joined them at long last, Conker decided to approach the box.

"Hi, you must be Burt," he greeted the box.

"I'm Burt," it replied pleasantly in a voice that reminded Chris of Ernie from Sesame Street and John Coffey from the "Green Mile", put together.

"Jack sent me."

"I'll open the gate for you here, and you can get on with what is it ever you're trying to do." With that, the gate swung open, clanging hard against the fence, and the wedge of cheese that was closest shrieked on sight of them.

"That's all you do? Great," Conker muttered, turning to his two comrades. "Wanna catch some cheese?"

------------------

_I was going to make this longer, but I had a power outtage and figured that it couldn't hurt to end it there. Plus, that leaves more for the next one._

_I'm thinking of having a new appearance around here, maybe someone wakes up as cheese… Don't know yet._

_Well, I've got to be going – so I can work on another chapter and my other major fan fics. If anyone is reading this, leave me a review and let me know what you thought! _


	3. Sniffing Markers

_This chapter might be shorter than the first two – which, considering I usually aim for 8 pages and they were 12 and 10 – might be easier to read faster, being more convenient. Namely it might be shorter because of the upcoming holiday (I have to shop and decorate, ugh) and I've got two other fics to update at least once before then… And also, my computer got a bit messed up and now I can't get it to work half the time. I've been trying to remedy the problem and it's better than it was, but the memory is almost completely trashed and it freezes every few minutes on occasion… Okay, enough of that._

_Eh, after the cheese bit, I'm going to take that suggestion and start tweaking the original dialogue a bit. And sometimes completely, depending on how I feel like approaching the plot, and whether or not the emulator will load. More interesting either way._

_And thanks for the reviews, Agent47Rulz and Alaska Kennedy! I might be a bit slow in reviewing your fics for a little while, but not for long._

_--------------_

Chapter Three: Sniffing Markers

"Mmm, smells like sharp cheddar," Chris said, as he, Conker and Ashley stepped into the enclosure where the wedges of cheese were frolicking, with an occasional scream if they came too close to the trio.

"But cheddar never has holes… Does it?" Ashley asked, and Conker sniggered.

"You must be an expert on holes."

Ashley crossed her arms, taking on a dark tone. "I'll pretend I didn't just hear that."

"Could you just stop bothering each other long enough that we can actually do something?" Chris muttered, getting a bit tired of their arguing.

"Just leave it to me," Conker replied, running up to a screaming piece of cheese, and whacking it with his frying pan. When it landed on its back, he picked it up and began to carry it towards the gate while it shrieked and cried, shedding small bits of cheese as it struggled to get loose. "See, nothing to it. Stop doing that!" he said to the cheese, and it started yelling 'put me down, put me down!'.

Chris scratched his head, and watched the rather tasty looking cheeses hopping around. It couldn't be that hard to catch one, could it? After ten minutes of chasing the timid cheese around, he finally managed to get a hold of one. He and Conker left Ashley behind, heading back down the path towards the gaseous mouse, dodging the metal boxes and made it down safely, cheeses screaming all the way.

When they climbed the turkey mound of dirt, they found the mouse still belching in Jack the box's face. Conker tossed his wedge of cheese into the air, and the mouse caught it in his mouth, swallowing it. "That was nice! I'd like another, though if that's okay."

Chris tossed the mouse his. He devoured it in one bite, and farted some more.

"Marvelous! One more should just about do it."

The two exchanged exasperated looks, and to their complete surprise they heard a rather muffled, "Room for one more?"

Standing at the edge of the mound, with a cheese trapped in her keyhole was Ashley, looking rather uncomfortable with the situation. "It's the only way I could pick it up."

She spit the cheese out, the mouse eating it quickly, and bloating like a hot air balloon, burping and farting repeatedly. They backed away, sensing something was about to happen.

"Oh no! I think I've had too much!" he exclaimed, growing three times in size before he exploded, sending slabs of meat and body parts flying everywhere, landing with numerous splats. The mouse threat gone, the big box on Jack's back jumped down, landing heavily at his side.

"Aaahhh, I couldn't a lasted a moment longer," Jack sighed happily, "Thank you very much, Mr. Squirrel. Now, there's something real neat inside that barn. You just got to get in there, sonny." With that, he resumed doing nothing, looking past them into oblivion.

"Err, okay… Guess we should head over to the other end of the building and see what else is over there?" Conker said, beginning to head back the way they'd just come with the cheese.

The boxes were still jumping around, giving them a deal of trouble, but they were soon past the danger. Burt and the cheeses had disappeared, but the sound of their scuttling around had been replaced with the sound of money nearby.

They walked along the path, observing a deep trench to the right lined with what Chris hoped was mud, until they came to a circular platform just visible from their previous location where a plywood crate bounced around. Up on the closest part of the roof ridge, was a wad of cash waiting impatiently for someone to pick it up on what seemed to be a square button.

"I think this is a job for me," Conker said, observing the height cautiously, "You two wait here."

Left to their own devices, Ashley and Chris did the only thing there was to do.

"Yup," said Chris.

"Yup," replied Ashley.

"Yo," added someone else, and the two abruptly turned to see someone they definitely hadn't been expecting to see.

"Leon!" shouted Ashley happily, and it was, in fact, him. Leon stood there, looking at them rather indifferently, with a white bag and a cup of coffee in one hand, and a semi-eaten muffin in the other. "You're here, too?"

"Err… That depends, where exactly is 'here'?" he asked, taking a bite of his muffin.

"Not sure," Chris answered, "But it's quite possible that we might be in the Twilight Zone…"

"Or the X Files," Leon suggested, taking a sip of coffee. "That would explain these." He indicated his muffin.

"Uh… what do you mean?" Ashley asked, giving it a strange look.

"It's eggnog - an eggnog muffin. Where in the world do you find those?"

"How does that have anything to do with the X Files?" Chris asked, completely lost at this point. "Maybe somebody just got the idea and tried it, doesn't mean it's paranormal or something."

"It could be. Or it could be just like that hobo on the Polar Express…" Leon said, looking thoughtfully at the sky.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?? Why are you comparing muffins to a ghost with an odd sense of humor?"

Leon shrugged, then decided to change the subject completely. "So, where did you guys wake up?"

"Near a waterfall."

"In a cave."

"I woke up in a bakery dumpster. I figured if I went out and got breakfast, and drank a lot of coffee, maybe I would wake up."

Conker, having pocketed the dough, and using the large button to un-bar the barn door, jumped down, rejoining his companions. "Who's this guy?"

Leon stared at the red squirrel. "That squirrel just talked. Neat." Then he looked over at Ashley. "Hey, Ashley, did you know that you're a key?"

Chris just shook his head. Something about that guy never had seemed completely right. "This is our friend Leon. Leon, this is Conker. We've sorta been trying to find our way out of this place."

"Good luck," Leon said, shoving the rest of his muffin into his mouth, and spraying crumbs everywhere as he continued. "I don't even know how I ended up here."

"Somehow that isn't entirely surprising," Chris muttered.

"Uh, I hate to break up this very interesting reunion," Conker interrupted sarcastically, "But shouldn't we be figuring out what to do next? The barn door is open now, why don't we look around?"

"In a barn? I think I'll take a rain check…" Ashley said quietly.

"Why? There shouldn't be any Spanish people with pitchforks in there," Leon said, remembering their trek through Spain on a slightly-too-fond note.

"… Alright, okay. Let's get this over with…"

The barn was quiet, except for a sweeping-like sound created by hay bales that hopped around aimlessly. There wasn't anything all that eye-catching, except for, of course, the hay bale dealies. But aside from them, nothing seemed spectacular. The inside of the barn itself wasn't so bad, kept fairly clean and in good order, give or take piles of loose hay here and there. They all looked around.

"Doesn't seem so bad…" Ashley said, unsure of what the place was actually used for. For all she knew, it could be something terrible and they just didn't know yet.

The hay bales all stopped, except for the smallest one, and stared at them.

"Uh… Hi?" Chris said, waving his hand slightly. "Is there anything aside from you in here?"

The hay didn't reply; just kept staring until Conker spoke up. "You, the one that's still jumping around. Rumor has it that there's something real neat inside this barn."

"This place is starting to give me the willies…" Ashley said when the last hay bale stopped and smiled in a sinister fashion.

"This is really neat," he replied, and the door bolted itself behind them.

"Now it's seriously creeping me out!" Ashley said, her voice getting quite a bit whinier and higher pitched.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Ashley. It probably does that all the time," Leon suggested, and Chris raised an eyebrow.

"What dimension did you grow up in? Barn doors don't lock automatically."

"And what rule says they can't?"

"None, I suppose, but I sure as hell never heard of a self-locking barn door."

"Neither have I," Ashley interjected.

"Well, when did you become a farmer?"

"Well, when did you start acting like a stoner?"

"I don't act like a stoner, I act like myself."

"Then did you ever sniff markers or get dropped on your head as a kid?"

"Are you calling me retarded?"

"No. I wanted to see if you might have brain damage, how did you get retarded out of that?"

"Guys…" Conker said.

"Do you have sleep apnea?" Ashley questioned, "It supposedly causes problems with brain function."

"I think that's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say," Chris replied, and Leon nodded in agreement.

"Maybe that's it. I'll have to find a doctor - "

"GUYS…" Conker repeated with growing urgency.

"What?" they asked in unison, turning to see that the hay bales had resumed their directionless promenade, and that they were no longer alone. Only a couple feet away from the red squirrel was a pitchfork, swaying slightly back and forth from one prong to another impatiently, a disgruntled look on its face.

"See?! I told you this was a bad idea!" Ashley shouted, hurrying behind Chris at the sight of it.

"It's not that scary," Leon said matter-of-factly, and the pitchfork irately piped up in a very backwoods-farmey kind of voice.

"What the damn diddly squat are you doing in my barn?"

Leon answered his question by screaming like a girl and taking up refuge behind Chris himself. "What is that thing?!"

"What part of seeing a talking pitchfork don't you understand?" Conker asked, looking back at him.

"Not from around here, are ya?" it asked gruffly, looking over Conker's human companions disdainfully.

"No, we're from the 21st century," the squirrel scoffed.

"I don't rightly recollect liking your types," the pitchfork said, and the whole scene began to remind Chris of bad redneck jokes.

"God, you are creepy! Go the hell away!" Leon shouted from behind Chris.

"You weren't scared of killer farmers or mangled women with chainsaws, but this scares you?" Ashley muttered.

"It's like that episode of the X Files with the guy that everything he touches grows green mold all over it!"

"What??" Chris, Conker and Ashley said, forgetting about the now bemused pitchfork momentarily.

"What flim-flam are you yakking about now?" he asked, more irritable than ever.

"Get lost, you terrifying bastard! We don't want whatever you're selling!" Leon retorted.

"It's a pitchfork, not a door-to-door salesman," Chris said, and the other man grabbed a handful of hay from the floor and threw it at the pitchfork.

"Take this and… eat it!"

"I think you meant shove it," Chris offered.

"Or stuff it," Conker added.

"Yeah, I think I did," Leon responded.

The already annoyed pitchfork looked from the hay, now scattered all around him, to them and proclaimed, "I'm gonna stick my big fork right into yers!"

"Eww, pervert," Ashley commented with a disturbed expression.

"I don't think that's what he's talking about…" Chris said, somehow knowing that this whole situation was about to go from 'unplanned trip' mode, to 'vacation from hell'.

--------------------------------------

_Not exactly the best place to leave off, but I had another battle with the computer, and now the disk drive smells like a burning Band-Aid. Why is beyond me, but that began after it activated, started whirring at me, and the light under the disk tray turned red and froze my computer, then wouldn't let me start it in normally. Anyway…_

_I sort of have this weird image of Leon as a stoner for this story, which would explain the references that don't relate at all to the situation at hand… As well as the bad title, 'cause it was a last minute thing._

_Well, this chapter was shorter, and I sort of butchered the dialogue at the end, but it'll be better next chapter, when the holidays don't have me so stressed out. Thought I had a quote for this chapter... oh well, next one._

_So, if you're reading this, leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	4. AHH!

_Well, back again, and my computer is still a wreck. My cousin, who keeps offering to build me a new computer if I'll buy the parts, tried to help me fix the system files that are damaged, but that never came to fruition once we found out the disk drive tray won't eject now. And he came up with a color-coded system for when it's acting up._

_The light turns green… The computer is frozen._

_The light turns yellow… Finish what you're doing; it's got about five minutes before freezing._

_The light turns red… DEFCON!!! The computer's about to explode!_

_Yeah, it hasn't exploded yet, but we haven't ruled out that possibility yet._

_Well, at least Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanza was good. And happy belated holidays! Forgot that last time._

_And note: RSR is one of my own characters. Throwing him in 'cause I can't think so well right now._

_--------------------_

Chapter Four: AHH!

Without warning, the pitchfork hurdled forward stiffly, his prongs getting stuck in the stone floor only inches from Conker's tail. Now it was pretty obvious what the enraged farming instrument had in mind.

"I hate farms," Ashley moaned.

Conker was quickly formulating a plan. "Chris and Leon, distract him! Ashley, shut up! I'll find a way out of here!"

Ashley took 'shut up' to mean 'take cover', and buried herself in a pile of hay that was carefully swept into the corner of the barn, right next to a giant lever. Just as the pitchfork managed to wriggle free from the floor, Chris started jumping around like he was trying to catch the attention of someone with severe ADD (no offense, anybody). "Hey, you lame-brained piece of firewood! Over here!"

Leon cautiously stepped out from behind Chris, and in the most intrepid tone he could muster, added, "Come get us, termite food!"

"Holy shit!" Chris shouted, grabbing Leon by the shoulders and yanking him behind the nearest hay bale as the even pissier pitchfork quickly came at them, with a "Yeehaw!"

He went for them, and mistakenly impaled the bale, causing it to explode into a downpour of hay. The eyes that had once been the hay bale's now lay on the floor, staring directly at Chris and Leon.

"Eww! Eww! It's looking at us! Do something, Chris!" Leon said girlishly, waving his hands around frantically and running away. Chris walked over to them, and lifted his foot, hesitating momentarily because of the way the eyes were looking at him sadly, and then squashing them into pools of eye juice. Chris scraped his shoes on the stone floor, hoping to get it all off, momentarily forgetting the pitchfork.

The pitchfork had been chasing Leon, who followed Chris' example and hid behind a hay bale. After it had destroyed the creature trying to get at the intruder, he turned his sights on the distracted Chris, still preoccupied with his shoes. "Man, these are Air Jordans. These damn things were expensive. If this stuff doesn't come off, I swear - "

"Chris, look out!" Leon called, and Chris turned just in time to get nailed in the face with an eyeball, that splattered all over him.

"LEON!"

"Sorry!" Leon shouted, picking up the other eyeball and chucking it. This time, it hit the pitchfork, and he spun around, glaring at the assailant.

"Ya better keep running, sonny!" he warned, and Leon just smiled.

"I'm not afraid of you," he sang tauntingly, and the pitchfork came at him faster than a starving cheetah after an Olympic runner.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! AHH! AHH! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Leon screamed, leading the pitchfork all over the barn, and taking out the rest of the hay bales in the process.

The now depressed pitchfork, having killed all of the hay bales, and not even scratched the trespassers, dejectedly hopped back over to a small area in the opposite end of the barn, where a paint can and brush were sitting on a shelf, waiting for him.

"That was the crappiest ass-kicking I've ever seen!" the paint can exclaimed, "So whatcha gonna do now? Kill yourself? That's what I would recommend."

"Yeh, kill yourself!" the brush agreed.

"What kind of friends are you? I is gonna kill myself! I'm gonna do it right now!" With that, he hopped off.

"I guess that's over," Chris muttered, as Conker and Ashley suddenly popped out of the pile of hay in the corner. "I thought you were going to look for a way out of here!"

"I was," Conker said, brushing himself off, "But it was a bit dangerous with the pitchfork around, don't you think?"

"Uh… What exactly were you guys doing in there?" Leon asked, coming back over.

"Nothing, you sicko!" Ashley shouted, and Conker nodded in agreement.

"You think I'd ever even touch her?"

"WHAT?!" Ashley shrieked in a voice that could only be that of Satan, hopping over to the red squirrel and, not being able to smack him, head-butted him right in the face.

"Ow, what was that for??"

"I'm much too good for you to even look at, let alone touch!" she spat, and after a moment, realized what kind of looks she was getting. "What?"

"For someone who's rumored to be incredibly slutty, you seem to have incredibly high standards as well," Leon laughed, just to get knocked on the floor and have Ashley the key jumped up and down on his chest. "Dude, you're bruising my ribs!"

"I AM NOT A DUDE!"

"Oooookay…" Chris said slowly, turning to Conker. "I think that big lever might be our ticket out of this hellhole."

Conker shrugged, walking over and giving it a hearty tug. It unbolted the door to their relief, and the two headed for the exit, briefly pausing to see how the fight was going.

Ashley was still tenderizing Leon, while it appeared that their pitchfork adversary was attempting to hang himself from a rope tied around a high ceiling beam.

"The door is open," Conker said loudly, "We can leave now!"

"Just a minute!" Ashley said in her sweetest voice, continuing her battering.

The two went outside, breathing deep the fresh air with sighs of contentment after getting out of the smelly, stagnant barn. After a couple of minutes, during which time Chris whistled a simple tune and Conker paged through a porno magazine called 'Beaver', Ashley came through the doors, seeming satisfied. She was followed by Leon, now bruised and a little bit bloody, who seemed less than pleased that no one helped him out.

They started to move out, noticing a bee rivaling the size of their earlier acquaintance, the Queen Bee, sitting in a shallow trench to the right of the path leading to the barn doors looking like he'd just come from a week of living in a bar.

"Hey, you guys… Could ya spare me a dime?" he asked in a fatigued voice.

"LOOK OUT BELOW!" a raspy voice screamed from overhead, and there were a few loud thuds on the roof before something slid off and fell in the deepest end of the trench to their left. They peered over the edge of the path they were on, and spotted what appeared to be a weasel laying in a heap on the ground.

"You okay?" Chris called, and a paw twitched.

"Err… Yeah… I'm fine…" The creature managed to untangle himself, and got to his feet, every joint in his body giving a loud CRACK! in unison. They all cringed at the sound.

"You're sure you're okay," Conker said, and the weasel nodded. "What happened?"

"I slipped on the ladder," he said, looking up at them, and with a curious glance at Conker's companions, pointed to Chris and asked, "What are you?"

Chris frowned. He didn't recognize a human when he saw one? "I'm a human."

"Human?" the weasel scratched his chin in an uneasy manner. "I thought they only existed in fairy tales."

"You're humans? I always thought they were a lot hairier, and try to kill anything that moves," Conker said and Leon laughed.

"I met a guy like that in Spain!"

Chris shook his head, and turned to Conker. "So, I guess we're the only ones of our kind here, huh?"

"As far as I know."

"Hey, uh, can someone help me up there?" the weasel asked, brushing himself off.

"Grab my hand," Leon said, stooping and holding his hand out to the creature. He regarded him carefully for a moment, and then allowed Leon to pull him up.

He was about a foot taller than Conker, dressed completely in black (give or take all the dirt he was covered in), with a bulletproof vest on. "Thanks, uh…"

"Leon. And they're Chris, Conker and Ashley."

"Pleasure. I'm RSR."

"What does that stand for?" Ashley asked, and he didn't answer right away, his gaze sliding to an indeterminable point in the distance.

"… _Red se r_e..." he mumbled.

"What?" Conker questioned.

"Ready Set ReRe," the weasel said a bit louder, pretending that whatever he was looking at was interesting.

"That's your name?" Chris asked, very disturbed at the thought.

"Yes…"

"I think it's neat," Leon said with a smile, and the others just gave him a funny look, except for RSR, who seemed contented.

"It was my mom's idea. She was a bit weird in the head."

"Right. Anyway… Why were you on the roof?" Chris asked, and he pointed way up in the sky, to where the group could barely make out the series of metal platforms and ladders.

"Trying to find my father's wedding ring. He lost it years ago, and he never stops talking about it."

"If he lost it that long ago, chances are you aren't going to find it," Conker said, and RSR shook his head wildly.

"No, no – not up there. I was trying to see the place where it's supposed to be. He left it in a vault somewhere nearby, and no one seems to know where the vault is. But he mentioned something about fish…"

"Don't know of any vaults around here, sorry."

"That's what everyone says, but I'm going to find it. I won't give up."

"Well, good luck," Conker said with a small wave, going to take a step forward when the weasel blocked his path.

"Wait! Was there anyone in there?"

"Why?"

"Maybe they would know something."

"Yeah, there were. Really strange and annoying people."

"Well, let's go then."

"Wait, wait. You want us to go with you, to ask where a vault is?"

"Yeah."

"You can't do it yourself?"

"Nope."

"Hey, don't ignore me…" the nearby bee suddenly interrupted, and Conker sighed.

"Hold on," he said to the bee, and then turned back to the weasel. "Okay, we'll help you, just this once. Let me find out what this guy wants first."

RSR just smiled and nodded, as Conker approached the bee.

----------------

_I have a knack for leaving off in weird places. But I kinda got writers block temporarily on this part, which is why it's slightly late in being posted. And why I threw in RSR. I think I'll occasionally throw some of my old characters in there to move the plot along. Which, given the fact that they're all really weird, that will be interesting. Most of them have weird names too._

_Okay, well, not much to say today. If you're reading (which I know you are – this story has gotten a lot more hits than I thought it would), leave me a review and tell me how it is. Now I have to go find some old songs…_


	5. Garden of the Dead

_Back again. Nothing's all that new, except I'm trying harder to get some work done on my other fics. I've been playing PS2 games a lot since the computer got messed up, though, and now I'm sort of focused on that… Namely really old games I never beat yet._

_Okay, this chapter is mostly original and it has little to do with the actual plot of the game. I need to work on the sub-plot generated by putting people from one game into another, and it will work itself into the game plot… probably towards the end of this installment. I was going to pick up where I originally left off, but I need some more time to work the kinks out of my ideas for the next part of the game. In the meantime, enjoy my improvisation. It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to do this – hence the delay in updating. That and my dining room is freezing cold at night, so I've been working during the times it's warm._

_------------_

Chapter Five: Garden of the Dead

In another part of the land…

"It's hard to navigate through this place when you're actually here," Steve said, observing the same rock they had just passed ten times in a row.

"I know what you mean," Claire replied.

They had found themselves in the middle of a densely overgrown area, and despite their attempts to navigate their way out of it, they'd been wandering around for an hour at least; lost in the labyrinth of bushes.

Unlike most other forests, this one seemed to be completely dead, or at least in a state of hibernation. The trees were scraggly and black, their branches tangled together like roots, forming a literal canopy that almost blocked out the sky. The bushes were little more than tumbleweeds still attached to the ground, leafless skeletons of their former selves. The ground itself seemed to be dead.

There wasn't a sound in the woodland. Even their footsteps were hushed by the soft dirt below.

"Where exactly are we? It doesn't look like… Anyplace."

"I don't have a clue." Claire stopped, looking around for any sign of an exit. "Maybe we've been approaching this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when you get lost your supposed to stay put right? What if, since we don't know if anybody would even find us here, we just walk straight in a direction and see where we end up?"

"It could work," Steve replied, "But… uh… Which direction?"

"How about that way?" She pushed aside a bush, spotting a path leading straight ahead. "Now why couldn't we have thought of that earlier?"

They followed the path through nearly impenetrable flora until they stumbled out into the open, laying eyes on a slightly asymmetrical structure looming against the full moon a short distance away.

"Count Batula's home," Claire said quietly.

The place was perceptibly old; a surviving example of gothic-styled architecture during the Victorian era, and even the thickly forested area behind them seemed to be considerably older than the rest of the landscape. It rested atop a plateau connected to the bank where they stood, by a twisting path that dropped sheerly on both sides into a rocky abyss. The air here was chilly, whereas the forest had been warm, and the atmosphere carried with it an unidentifiable smell… Almost like rotting flowers.

The windows glowed with a warm light, and amid the gargoyles that lined the roof, smoke drifted from a chimney, twisting around itself and forming strange patterns against the dark sky.

Steve shivered, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself up. "Should we go in?"

Claire didn't immediately answer, intently studying the house with a blank expression. "What if Batula's there?"

"It couldn't hurt to take a look." Reconsidering that statement, he quickly added, "Okay, maybe it could hurt to look. But it looks so warm."

"You're right. Is it just me, or is it getting colder by the second?"

"Let's go."

They began to wander up the twisting path, watching the house with a certain sense of hesitation. There wasn't a sound anywhere, except for the crunch and shuffle of rocks under their feet, and the stillness was quickly becoming unsettling.

The trail winded back and forth like a snake, and with each turn they felt a little more dizzy.

"How long have we been walking? It feels like years," Steve said, peering over the edge of the path and quickly looking back up. The drop was at least thirty feet right into rock.

"Less than a minute," Claire said, looking out over the top of the forest.

Directly behind the eerie house on the hill, rose sharp mountain peaks, tall and narrow, like knives pointing up at the dark sky overhead. Beyond the dark forest below, rolled green and gold fields that stretched across most of the landscape. They temporarily disappeared behind a gigantic tree stump that blocked out the horizon for as far as the eye could see behind it. In the distance the fortress stood alone on its island, dark clouds swirling above. The hills rose up again, rivaling the size of mountains behind the hive and tower, which seemed to have an unnatural luminescence in the subdued light of day. Where the hills ended, mountains wracked by volcanic activity loomed darkly, spewing ash into the air.

From here, the whole land took on a ghostly characteristic.

They rounded the last twist in the path and paused just before the stairs. Steve took a deep breath and stopped short, coughing heavily. This close to the house, the air smelled strongly of copper and iron… to a nauseating extent.

They looked at each other and ascended the steps, simply pushing the doors open and walking in.

"Pretty swanky," Steve commented.

A large staircase took up most of the room they had entered, banisters carefully carved to resemble serpent-like creatures and a single red carpet running its length. The whole room had a very antique feel to it, and every surface within it was detectably dusty. At the top of the stairwell hung a large painting primarily colored with red, depicting a squirrel with fangs. It had probably been there for a century at least, judging from the style it was painted in… And the incredible amount of dust.

Claire shifted uncomfortably. "It's really quiet in here."

With that, the doors swung shut behind them with a long, low creak.

"Wonder where our host is."

It wasn't more than a few seconds before a familiar form appeared at the top of the stairs, examining them carefully.

"Ahh. I haven't had guests in a long time," Batula said pleasantly in his German accent, crossing his hands in front of his chest.

"He's here," Claire murmured to Steve who just nodded, keeping his eyes on the ancient creature.

"Please, come in and make yourselves at home." Batula was a very old and withered grey squirrel. From his heart-shaped hair to his red robes, he seemed like a relic from another time altogether. He blinked blood-shot eyes once, and began to descend the stairs in a surreal manner, almost like he was floating. "Vat brings you here?"

"We got lost in the woods," Claire explained, "And we were trying to find our way back to Windy."

"Vindy, the valley below? You must have gotten very lost to find yourselves this far away." He stopped a couple of feet from them, and motioned to everything around him, taking on an amiable tone. "You are velcome to stay as long as you vish."

He never smiled once, and the deep wrinkles in his face seemed to have come from the constant frown he wore.

"Uh, thanks," Steve replied, trying not to stare.

"Vould you like anything to drink?"

"No thanks," Claire said.

"But can we rest for a bit? My feet are killing me," Steve added.

"Come," he answered, and with a sweeping motion of his hand, led them towards the room to the right. "Ze dining room."

The dining room, as he called it, didn't seem to have been touched in years. Almost in front of the entrance, there was a gaping hole in the floor that didn't appear to lead anywhere, except into eternal darkness. When they passed, the boards groaned loudly as the floor shifted unsteadily, making Steve and Claire move further away from the edge cautiously.

They were seated at the long table, looking around at the paintings that lined the walls. A sinister-looking squirrel in colonial attire, more squirrels with fangs, what looked like a were-squirrel…

"I have never seen creatures like you before," Batula said, gazing at them solemnly as he twiddled his fingers. "Pray tell, what might you be?"

"We're called humans," Claire replied. "We're from a land very far away."

"Humans," he said contemplatively, "I remember. They vere only in stories, and yet, here they are."

"Stories? Like myths?" Claire asked, glimpsing at the paintings again.

"Yes. No one has ever seen a human, living or deceased, vithin the last several centuries. They were thought to have been, how do you say, 'made up'… You are quite ze anomalies."

Steve nervously glanced up at the ceiling, thinking he'd seen something flutter just overhead. "How – how old is this place?"

Batula sighed, moving to the nearest wall and staring deeply at a smaller copy of the painting above the main stairwell. "It has been here at least three hundred years, since the time of my ancestor. Zis house has always been in ze family."

"You must have a big family," Claire said, and their host turned to face them.

"Indeed. The three patriarchs," he said, motioning to the paintings behind him, "Excluding myself."

He held a skeletal hand up to the copy of the painting above the stairs. "The Kula of Conk."

"Er… What's a 'Kula'?" Steve asked, and Batula just stared at him.

"A warlord." When he was satisfied that he wouldn't be interrupted further, he continued. "The founder of our family. He lived three hundred years ago, when there was a great war that forever divided the land."

"Is this house the same as it was when it was built?" Claire asked, creating conversation for lack of any idea what they were going to do next.

"No. Some things were added… more recently." He paced along the wall slowly, watching them out of the corner of his eye. "Vould you like to look around?"

They nodded, getting to their feet almost in unison and following him out the door.

"Come. I'll show you my favorite room in ze house."

He led them through a door, into a room of ledges and metal pipes that were high over a pit in the floor… where there was a giant grinder.

The blood stained floor sloped towards the center of the room, where what looked like a huge rolling pin with spikes turned constantly. The two stood beside Batula, looking at the grinder with abhorrence. They'd seen a lot of terrible things, but this one was way up there on the list.

"Zis is my grinder. Makes it easier to… grind up a good deal of meat," Batula said indifferently.

They exchanged glances, knowing that wasn't exactly the case.

"Did you build it?" Claire asked, hoping something bad wasn't about to happen.

"Alas, no. I had hired help. Right after it's creation, though… he met an… unfortunate end," he replied, choosing his words carefully. "All ze police ever found was a big bloodstain."

"Did he fall in?"

"No, he vas hit by a car."

Steve snorted, apparently slightly amused. "You had me scared there for a second."

Batula just looked at him apathetically. "There is more to see."

He led them through more strange parts of the house, describing the long history of the family as they moved through each room. As they entered a corridor lined with tall statues of sinister looking creatures, Batula turned to them, twiddling his fingers. "Ze garden."

They stepped outside into an assembly of tall hedges that formed a circular labyrinth, overgrown with strange vines. It was eerily green compared to the forest that surrounded the plateau, and each hedge was lined with worn headstones bearing unreadable names. They traced the circular path of the maze with their eyes until their gazes met with a large stone tomb in the center that clearly read in an old style of lettering, "The Kula of Conk".

"Looks more like a cemetery to me," Steve said and Batula shrugged.

"To each his own." He moved forward slightly, glancing over it lovingly. "My whole family is here, cast in eternal sleep. Not to rise again… unless…"

There was a sound from far behind them, like the sound of footfalls on a wooden floor, echoing through the huge house. It was the sound of someone knocking on the front door loudly. No one moved.

Batula tapped his fingers together, not looking at either of them as he turned to face the way they'd come. After a few moments, he spoke in a low voice, staring straight ahead intently. "Hm… Let us go see who has come to join us."

Claire and Steve exchanged hesitant glances, as Batula looked to them, his tone no longer the hospitable one he had donned earlier. "I'd suggest you plan on staying here tonight."

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_I didn't actually plan on ending it there, but I decided to make this part last longer than I originally anticipated. It was nice getting away from the plot of the game a bit, and just experimenting with different things. Hopefully it didn't bore you to death. I wanted to write it so that even if anybody knows what happens in the plot, they won't have a clue what's going to happen here. Even I'm not sure yet, I'm still thinking it up as I go along._

_Well, hopefully it won't take so long for me to update next time. I have to work on a few things this upcoming week, so I'll set aside some time for it when I'm not pouring my thoughts into my other fics._

_That's it for now. If you're reading leave me a review and let me know what you thought. And to my two friends that have been reviewing: many, many thanks. :)_


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